Justice Be Done
by Eva Fairsong
Summary: The threat Malthael posed Sanctuary has been dealt with. Through Death's folly, the Prime Evils have again been loosed upon the world. The nephalem and her companions stand ready at the vanguard, but this time with a new ally: the Aspect of Justice, reborn.
1. Chapter 1

**1: Harkening the Crystal Arch**

Malthael's corrosive influence gnawed at the edge of every realm. Within the High Heavens, angels crossed these patches of destruction with mourning and contempt. However good his intentions, however just he believed himself to be, the former Aspect of Wisdom proved to be the greatest fool in Creation the moment he presumed to contain the Black Soulstone.

The starlit boughs and gleaming arches of their Golden City bore silent witness to the atrocities committed by its brethren. Angels everywhere felt unworthy of looking upon the splendor of theirhome. Twice have they defiled its name, first through allowing demons to roam its sacred streets, and second through Malthael's crusade.

Then, heralding its children, the Crystal Arch began to sing.

The Heavenly Host lifted their hooded heads at the beacon. The most it ever did was hum, but this was truly a song. The sweet, sweet music filled the air, lifting their pride and spirits. By the time the majority of the Heavens gathered at the site, the Archangels were standing at the fore.

Imperius stood at the side of his two angelic siblings, frowning inwardly that Tyrael could not arrive fast enough to share this moment.

Auriel picked up on his emotions, like an angry hum tainting the purity of the music before them.

"It is for the best that Tyrael is not with us," she said. "Mortal eyes will burn if they look upon the Arch as it is now."

Itherael pointed at the Crystal Arch before them, brightening until all angels were blinded by its light.

"She comes," he intoned, as though reading a line from his scroll of Fate. "Justice is born anew."

* * *

Meanwhile, Sanctuary turned its head to the sky. The Demon Hunter, Valla, approached with eerie calm. This did not feel like a dark omen, like that of Tristram's falling star. But it was hardly inconsequential.

Clouds gathered in the night sky, obscuring the moon and stars from view. Behind their layer was a fog of light, increasing in brightness, until the dead hours appeared as midday.

Tyrael woke from his reverie at the hearth. He smiled with peaceful abandon, two shining tears running down his face.

"What is it?" Valla wondered.

"The Heavens have a new Archangel." He beamed. "Justice has been reborn."


	2. Chapter 2

**2: Chords of Dissonance**

Those who survived the culling of Westmarch rejoiced at Tyrael's news. Somewhere, up there, an angel was born to his old mantle. But Valla would reserve her judgement. After all, not all angels cared for men as much as Tyrael did. Imperius was dismissive –at best. Malthael was completely genocidal. The odds of this Aspect being on humanity's side were abysmal by default.

Eirena was sleeping in the cellar they shared. Valla felt a pang as she spied the Enchantress clutching fistfuls of blanket. This latest arc in their adventure did more harm than good, she feared. She heard Eirena mumble in her restless slumber, reciting the names of her fallen sisters.

The Demon Hunter prodded the fireplace logs, stirring the bed of ash. It wasn't much, but she would ensure her companion didn't freeze in the middle of the night. Her act of compassion done, Valla slung her pack across one shoulder, cloaked herself in shadow, and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

In the meantime, Captain Haile barged into the Brass Goatman –the sole tavern to survive this mess. This was where the hopeless refugees wound up. Most were noble. They pawned their fine clothes and expensive jewels in order to drown their sorrow. Those who didn't believe Death was still coming were already dead on the inside. They moaned like zombies as Haile brushed to the front in a straight line.

Kormac was the first to see him. He moved over, offering the man his seat. "It's good to see you, Captain."

"And you, Kormac." He nodded, brusque as usual.

"How're the children?"

Haile shook his head into an open palm. "It was like Bastion's Keep all over again, getting Kyla to turn in. She insisted on watching over the other child refugees, completely forgetting she's one of them. Hah!" He nodded as the bartender offered his usual tonic. "I'm proud of her though. Becoming more like her mother every day –though I'm sure it'll kill me before long!"

Kormac laughed. "It's a blessing. Sanctuary will need more heroes once we're old."

"The Hell I'm letting her near a demon!"

"With a personality like that, I doubt you 'letting' will get in the way her 'doing'."

He snorted. A moment later, Haile glanced at a figure hunched not far from where they sat. "Speaking of doing," he started, "what's that Scoundrel up to?"

Kormac's expression, already strained from burning bodies that day, sagged further. "Not much of anything."

"Still?" Haile (and anyone with eyes to see) knew that Lyndon suffered a heavy blow to morale. No one was certain of the true reason, but his companions weren't forthcoming on the details. It involved his brother –that much everyone knew. No one would forget the way he blew up at their hero in front of the cathedral.

For an instant everyone assumed Lyndon was a dead man.

Haile fought alongside Valla. Her greatest fans were still unnerved by the hellfire blazing in her eyes, and blaze they did, but in silence. Valla took the lashing Lyndon gave her. She didn't fight. She didn't speak. The Demon Hunter simply turned around and walked through the portal behind her.

The Scoundrel was a melting man, spreading over half his broken table. His drink was long empty, but with a lack of living customers, he could stay there as long as he pleased.

This was until Eirena barged through the entrance.

The Enchantress was bedraggled, her undershirt slipping far down one of her shoulders. Her eyes, heavily glazed, connected with Kormac's across the room.

"Valla, where is she?"

His brow furrowed. It wasn't unusual to see Eirena in some form of alarm, thanks to her unique talents, but anything relating to their leader was serious enough to warrant attention. If something happened to Valla –if something _could_ happen to Valla– then their world was doomed.

"Did you check the watchtowers?" Kormac asked.

"She's not there."

"The cathedral turret?" Haile offered.

Eirena shook her head. "I've checked all the usual places, but she eludes me still. I worry. She tells at least one of us before disappearing."

"I'll have a word with the guards." Haile rose, but came to a halt as his feet touched the head of a shadow. Two figures stood behind Eirena. The first was Myriam, her pleasant face belied by a darker element. Next to her was Tyrael.

The Vecin spoke first. "I saw her in the ruins of Corvus."

"Corvus?" Kormac jumped. "We nearly died there."

Lyndon snorted in his dark corner. "We nearly die _anywhere_ –or haven't you realized that?" He shrugged in his seat. "So she goes to the ruins. They're mostly clear now. Our noble leader shouldn't have any issues dispatching the rest."

"What is your problem? Valla is a valuable comrade, and a friend!" the Templar shouted back. "You act as though you could care less whether she lives or dies."

"That's because she's the Hero." Lyndon threw a hand in the air. "And everyone one knows that the Hero always returns! Don't bother worrying. She's not like the rest of us."

Eirena's great blue eyes burned with tears. She wanted to tear into Lyndon just as badly as Kormac did, but they were held back. In her case, Myriam set a motherly hand on her shoulder, keeping her rage at bay.

"Well I'm going!" The Enchantress turned. Tyrael remained in her way.

"You have nothing to worry over, Eirena."

"Seraph?"

He smiled. The purity of his existence was like a balm to her frazzled nerves. "While I am no longer an angel, I retain a good sense for my allies. I spotted Valla on her exit, and I made certain that she was not alone."


End file.
